


Fallout: RTAH

by AnimeXIII, DreamingFandoms



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Fallout 3, Multi, Set in Fallout: New Vegas, Some of RT will be Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-04-30 07:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeXIII/pseuds/AnimeXIII, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingFandoms/pseuds/DreamingFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Gavin have escaped the Vault they had been tortured and experimented in. At a cost, Michael lost most of his humanity. They travel long and wide then end up in the Mojave Wasteland and meet amazing people like them along the way.<br/>Join them as they enter the Strip and take over New Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vault 87

**Author's Note:**

> We came up with this from the Open World: Immersion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vault of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DF is making me do this.

Gavin shivered and huddled closer to the wall of his cell, trying to ignore the mangled limbs scattered around the floor. His hands were clasped tightly against his ears to shut out the screams of pain.

Michael was in pain..... and he couldn't help him.

He was so weak, the Mutants didn't feed him in over Two weeks. He wasn't strong enough to fight back to save his boi.

The screams ended soon after, and Gavin heard the heavy thumps of a Super Mutant's footsteps, along with a dragging noise.

The door to his prison opened and a Mutant chucked the still body of Michael inside, slamming the door behind him.

Gavin waited until the Super Mutant's footsteps had faded, then crawled shakily over to his only friend. The 10-year-old shook his friend's form, willing him not to be dead.

Michael groaned weakly, blood dribbling out of his mouth. Heaving himself up, he gazed at the other sadly.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Gavin bristled, looking at the 11-year-old in shock.

"Me?! I should be the one asking that!" The Brit grabbed his friend by his shoulders gently, to check the oozing gash in his stomach.

Michael grunted, the wound was deep enough that if he moved too much, his intestines would fall out. It was already getting infected.

"Why do you do this to yourself? We can escape! We can find a way!" Gavin had tears running down his face.

"We can't, we're too young. We won't survive out in the Waste." Michael mumbled, not meeting Gavin's eyes.

"Then we'll escape when we're older! We just need to survive that long!" Gavin was shaking, knowing that it would be a harsh time. "Promise me, that we'll survive, that we will get out of here."

Michael looked at the hand out stretched towards him. He glanced up to see the powerful look in Gavin's eyes. He sighed and grasped the smaller hand in his own.

"I promise."

..............3 Years Later.............

"Shhh, someone's coming!"

"Get ready." The Super Mutant didn't see them jump out of the shadows and stab him in the back of the head, killing the brute instantly.

The 14 and 15 year old looted the dead body of the Mutant, gaining several weapons with ammo. They glanced around the corridor, searching for more brutes.

Finding none, they jumped up and ran out of the hall. Using the guidance of Gavin's PitBoy, Michael's had been destroyed long ago, they search for the stairs that would lead them out of the Vault.

Several Mutants had tried to stop them, but were brought down by Michael's Assault Rifle. They were getting closer and closer to the Entrance Hall, just one more staircase to go.

"Gavin! Wait, there's something I need to get!" Michael muttered, pointing at a door beside them. The Brit nodded, and watched as his boi picked the lock to the steel barrier.

It opened up easily, revealing the Overseer's Office and a large Super Mutant, who was the leader of the brutes. Along with the one who murdered their parents and ordered the experiments on Michael.

The brute didn't stand a chance against Michael's rage, the redhead throwing aside his gun and instead attacked with a Bumper Sword he had stolen from a corpse.

Gavin only coughed when the Super Mutant's agony filled cries were cut off with a sickening squelch. His boi crouched next to the mangled body and whispered in its ear, before taking the journal that had been in a pocket.

Michael walked passed the sandy haired boy with a satisfied air around him. "Let's go."

"Right."

Gavin didn't say it out loud, but he knew what Michael had said to the corpse.

_"Those experiments worked. It's too bad that they only made us stronger, huh?"_

................ 8 years later .................

A curly red head huffed as he flopped down ontop of the mountain. "I _never_ want to climb another mountain, again."

"But Micool, you said that three mountains ago." A tall, sandy haired man with a surprisingly thick British accent said.

Micool, or Michael, held up a hand and pointed at the taller. "Hey, _shut up_."

Gavin sqwawked. "That's mean!"

"It's supposed to be, shithead." Michael stood up, brushing himself off while gazing at the small town below. 

"Looks peaceful, yeah?" Gavin smiled, walking up beside him.

"Yeah, let's go down and meet the locals." Michael began to slide down, towards the place.

"Alr-" _THUD_

Michael whipped around, spotting Gavin face down on the ground. "Gavin!"

He ran over to his boi , skidding on his knees the last few feet. He turned the Brit onto his back and checked his pulse, panicking when it was very faint.

"Gavin!"

"GAVIN!"

_"GAVIN!"_


	2. Good Springs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peaceful town in the middle of nowhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing this for DF.
> 
> SO YOU BETTER FUCKING LIKE IT.

_Cold._

_It's cold._

_But, why?_

_My head, something is pressing against it._

_But, what is it?_

_Huh?_

It was bright, making Gavin blink, but something blocked most of the light out.

Michael, his boi, Michael's forehead was pressed against his own, a hand held his bangs back.

"Wh-Wha?" Gavin tried to speak, but his throat was too dry.

Michael's eyes opened, close enough that Gavin could count the speckles of gold in them. The redhead moved back, making Gavin miss the warmth and smell of him.

"You're awake. Well, how 'bout that?"

Gavin looked behind his best friend to see an elderly man with gray hair in overalls and boots, he was leaning against a desk full of chems. 

Gavin turned his head slowly to gaze around the room, his body protested the action.

He was in a makeshift hospital room, clear curtains hanged around the twin bed he was in, stretchers were in the corner with another desk. There was two doors that lead to somethings that he couldn't see, he turned back to Michael, who was sitting on a chair beside his bed. "W-Where are we?"

Michael smiled softly, a rare feature on someone like him. "Doc Mitchell's house."

"Who?"

"That would be me." The elderly man stepped forward. "You're friend barged into Judy's Saloon with you on his back, shouting for a Doctor. They pointed him over here and I patched you right up."

Gavin could feel the bandages around his head. "How long was I out?"

"A week." Michael answered, his voice a whisper.

Doc Mitchell nodded, and pointed at Michael. "He stayed beside you the whole time, didn't get up for anything."

Michael blushed when the Brit turned to him, but nodded.

The Doc clapped his hands together. "Welp, no use keeping you in bed anymore, let's say we get you on your feet."

Gavin took a breath and sat up with Michael's help, his muscles were stiff but he could still move with little pain.

He planted his bare feet on the ground noting he was in a plain t-shirt and beige pants, and stood.

Michael was by his side immediately, hands on his chest and back. The Doc went to his other side and held his arm. He wobbled but managed to stay standing.

"Good good, now, why don't we get you to the living room?"

The two nodded and walked steadily after Doc Mitchell. Michael slowly removed his hands and let Gavin walk the final feet to the couch. They sat beside each other while Doc to a set in a chair infront of them.

"Now, mind telling me what happened?"

"I don't know," Gavin stared at the floor in thought, comforted by the warmth of his boi beside him. "One minute, I'm with Michael walking down a mountain to this place, and the next I'm waking up here."

Doc Mitchell nodded, a pensive look in his face. "Looks like something neurological, have you had any head injuries lately?"

Gavin thought for a moment and looked at Michael, he shook his head. "No, not recently."

The old man hummed, then sat back. "Must've been exposed to something. Well, looks like it won't be happening again. Where are you guys from?"

"DC." The doctor looked surprised. 

"That's quite a long way. Are you two heading to New Vegas?"

Michael shook his head. "We haven't heard of it."

The older man's eyebrows went up. "Never hearf of it? Have you been living under a rock?"

"Something like that." They exchanged glances.

"Well, New Vegas is a big ol' settlement. People go there to gamble their lives away, the richer ones move into The Strip."

"The Strip?"

"It's where Mr. House lives, he controls everything in the Mojave, no one's ever seen him. He lives in the tallest building, the Lucky 38 , no one's been inside there for years. Then there's the three tribes that work under him."

"Who are the three tribes?" Gavin asked.

"They hold the rich people. The Omertas are, adultish, they aren't really kid friendly. The Chairmen are trouble, I'd stay away from them if I were you. Finally, there's The White Gloves who were cannibals, and usually wear masks."

Gavin glanced at Michael when he said cannibals, but the redhead didn't notice. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, there's the NCR and Legion. The Legion are worse than the Chairmen, they're known for being slave drivers."

Michael gritted his teeth, people who sell others as slaves deserve to die. Gavin quickly asked about the NCR, seeing his boi about to explode.

"Now, the NCR are nice. They work for Mr. House, you won't see a single person who isn't part of the NCR. If you need help, just go to them."

The Brit nodded and glanced at the still seething Michael. "May we have a minute?"

Doc Mitchell nodded and got up. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

Gavin thanked him and watched him leave, before turning to his friend. "You want to destroy the Legion, don't you."

"After what they've done? They need to die." The smaller growled, hands clenched into fist.

"You know there's only one way to do that, right?" Gavin was all for it, he'll go with Michael to the ends of the earth if he had to, Michael was his.

"Yeah, we need to go to the NCR." They looked at each other and grinned.

"Looks like we're going to New Vegas."


	3. Powder Gangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Powder Gangers, annoying assholes that don't think before they act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten months. It has been ten months since I've updated this.  
> Gods, just rip my heart out already.
> 
> Also, have a great fucking Christmas you fucks!

Michael sipped his beer, red hair hiddem under a hat as he blended into the usual bar crowd in Judy's saloon. He set his drink down as two men walked in, one headed for the bar while the other sat directly behind Michael.

The blond behind him coughed into his shoulder and uncapped a beer, tapping it twice on the table. Michael's lips twitched as he tapped his beer once with a nail. 

"What the hell?! Get out of here, now." Judy's voice came from the bar as the woman walked around and pointed at the door. The dark skinned man in blue armor got up and threatened her.

"You better tell me where Ringo is, or else me and my boys are gonna burn this town to the ground!" Judy scoffed at his words and crossed her arms.

"We'll see about that. Now, if you ain't gonna buy anything, get out." The man growled and ran out, not noticing Michael and the blonds eyes following him.

Judy frowned at the door and sighed. "You two better go check on Ringo, tell him it's time." 

"Already on it, Miss Judy!" The blond, Gavin, grinned and got up, leaving some caps on the table. "Come on, boi!"

"Alright, alright. Give me a fucking minute." Michael groaned and paid for his drink, adjusting his new PitBoy Doc Mitchell gave him.

They left the bar and walked past Chet's store to get up to the old gas station that housed their newest resident.

Michael sauntered up to the door and knocked softly. "Yo, Ringo, open up! We got some news!"

The door shuttered and creaked open so an eye could peak out. "You sure? Is it good?"

"Yeah, now fucking move." Michael pushed past him, then leaned up on a shelf while Gavin restocked Ringo's food. "Judy says it's time."

"What?!" Ringo shut and locked the door, rubbing his hands nervously. "But, what about the others? Are they helping?"

"Yep, Sunny's waiting for your signal." Gavin spoke up, flipping through a magazine. "Nice stuff you got 'ere, Ringo!"

"Don't touch that, it's old!" Ringo took the magazine and set it gently out of Gavin's reach, making the taller pout. "Are you sure we'll win?"

"Yes, I've told you a million fucking times." Michael groaned. "Now, will you give the fucking go, already?!"

The Crimson Caravaner took a breath and nodded, grabbing his gun. "Let's do this."

The redhead grinned and pulled out his own pistol. "Hell yeah, bout damn time!"

Michael opened the door and ran out, rejoining the other townspeople as the Powder Gangers started firing. The shootout didn't last long, Michael resorting to dynamite that destroyed the ex prisoners side.

Finally, Joe Cobb was the last to die and everyone cheered as Michael and Gavin looted the bodies so they could be buried near the scorpion's nest.

Ringo jogged over with a grin and passed them a bag of caps. "I can't thank you enough! Here, this is the Caravan's funds, but I think they won't mind."

"Cheers, mate!" Gavin grinned back as Michael patted his back roughly. 

"You stickin' around?" Ringo shook his head at Michael's question, a sad smile on his face.

"This place is amazing, but I have to get back to the Crimson Caravan, I'm their best dealer." The two frowned but nodded.

"Welp, we'll see you there, huh?" Ringo blinked and nodded.

"Hope you two change Vegas for the better, Gods know we need it." Ringo gave them both a final hug and headed off to his temporary home to grab his stuff for the long journey back to the Strip.

They watched him go with frowns, another person that left the small town for good. They couldn't talk much, they would be leaving in the morning for more work. Michael sighed and nudged Gavin, making him turn. "Let's go get some sleep, you got blood on your cheek."

"Ah, thanks, luv." Gavin blinked and wiped away the smudge as the two made their way to the small house they lived in. It wasn't much, but it was all they need in the Mojave. Michael flopped on the large bed and curled up on his side, closing his eyes with a sigh.

The Brit gazed at him briefly before laying down himself, on his back and staring at the dozing redhead. His mind raced with the possibilities of what would happen if he reached out and took the smaller in his arms. Those thoughts had been around for a while now, the warm feeling in his gut never leaving when he saw Michael.

Gavin shook off the feeling before covering his eyes with an arm, he needed to sleep, not dwell over his high school crush on the older man. Sadly the Fates were not with him that night as he woke up with morning wood from rather pleasant dreams of Michael's pale body.

The subject of his dream cackled at him from the wardrobe, face red and voice high pitched as he pointed at Gavin's problem. "Dude, you need a minute alone? Want me to go get a clean sock, you sick fuck?"

"Oh, you're rubbish, Micool!" Gavin blushed and hid his hard on with a hand, gaining another laugh from the smaller man. Michael thankfully left him alone after that, claiming to go get supplies from Chet's store. Gavin ignored his problem and just packed his things up for the trip, they didn't have much to begin with, travelers and all. 

Gavin walked towards the door and stopped, looking back at their home. Goodsprings was a peaceful town, with little trouble other than the recent Powder Gangers, they could live here permanently. But Gavin knew, they would never want that life. Both men would never be able to settle down and live out the rest of their years in such a quiet place. 

He took a breath and shut off the light, closing and locking the door behind him, he gazed down at his house key before putting it back in his pocket. Michael waved at him from Judy's Saloon where the woman and Doc Mitchell were standing, prompting him to jog over.

"You boys watch eachother, you hear?" Judy's voice was watery as she hugged them both. "And come visit when you can, the younger folk'll miss you." 

"Goodsprings is always here for you two." Doc hugged them and clapped Gavin on the back, handing over a Doctor's Bag. "If you ever need patching up, you know who to holler."

"Thanks, guys." Michael sniffled and stood straighter as Gavin wiped his eyes. "We'll be heading towards Primm, just like you said, take the safe route to The Strip."

"Atta boy." Judy nodded and watched them leave, both her and Doc Mitchell staying where they were as the figures vanished in the horizon. "Those boys are gonna cause quite a stir."

"They most certainly will." Doc Mitchell smiled at the woman, patting her shoulder. "I don't doubt one bit that they aren't gonna do good things. Lord knows this world needs it."

 

.........................................

 

"How long until we reach Primm, again?" Gavin looked over at Michael, causing the shorter man to groan loudly as they walked down the road. The air was silent, their footsteps loud in the deserted area.

"For the last fuckin' time, we'll be there by nightfall!" Michael tugged at his hair, looking ready to just yank the red strands out. His PitBoy had the map open, their two arrows moving slowly across the thick line that was the highway.

"Alright, you don' gotta be pissy about it!" Gavin pouted back as Michael stopped in his tracks, he blinked and followed the redhead's gaze. His blood went cold, tan skin paling.

Infront of them was a Powder Ganger camp, several dozen sitting around as more traveled to and from the nearby prison. They definitely couldn't get passed without getting caught, they couldn't risk going to the sides for there was gecko nests strewn about. Gavin really didn't want to get swarmed by those pests.

"...come on. Let's just get this over with." Michael grumbled and stalked forward, making Gavin chase after him to catch up. They got closer to the camp and the Powder Gangers began to notice them, all looking over at the pair silently. When they got close enough Michael cleared his throat. "Ah...s'cuse me? Mind if we pass through here?"

It was silent for a bit, they managed to get into the encampment before a man with a mohawk stopped them with a leer. "I don't think so. You can't get passed, at least, not for free."

"What do you mean?" Michael narrowed his unnatural molten amber eyes as several Gangers crowded around the two, leaving them trapped. Two grabbed Michael and held him down as the man, most likely the leader of the camp. "What the hell?! Let me go, assholes!"

"Nah, I don't think we will, pretty boy." The leader grabbed him by the chin and forced his face up to make eye contact. "Me and my boys are getting pretty agitated lately. Haven't had any action in a while, see."

"No. There is no way in hell I'm letting you assholes near me!" Michael shouted and struggled, the leader frowned and grabbed Michael's throat. Only for the redhead to snarl and bring himself up using the Gangers' weights for leverage, kicking the leader in the head with both boots. 

The man went flying into the campfire, immediately going up in flames and screaming for his life. Michael's victory was short lived when a Powder Ganger came forward and whacked him with a knuckle buster on the side of the head. Michael went down like a ton of bricks, his temple bleeding.

Gavin felt his whole body run cold at the sight of his boi getting injured, the Gangers crowding around to tear at his clothes. Gavin's mind went black and the last thing he remembered was his own voice speaking calmly. "Get. The hell. Away from 'im."

"Oh, yeah? And what're you gonna do about it, Twinky? There's twenty of us and one of you." A Ganger sneered at him, the others laughing along. "You might as well just let your little boyfriend be our fucktoy."

Gavin lifted his head and glared, bright gold eyes piercing the man's soul. Time seemed to stop and suddenly the two men holding him down were on the ground, crying out in pain from multiple stab wounds to the torso. Gavin flicked his blood covered machete and stalked forward, eyes still on the frozen man.

"All I wanted was to get to Primm, safe an' sound with m' boi." Gavin caught a Ganger's arm and twisted it behind his back until it snapped, slitting his throat before letting the corpse fall to the ground. "But you faffin' had to go an' be mingy pricks tha' think with their effin' knobs!"

Gavin stabbed several men in the eyes, others got their throats slit, some even had their heads decapitated. "I should just let each an' every one of you burn to death with your smeggin' leader! I was, until you touched Micool."

The remaining men begged for mercry as he skinned one of their friend's face off, his skull staring at them as he collapsed. Gavin gritted his teeth and finished off the rest, all except for the man that taunted him. The blond turned and pointed his machete at the man, backing him into a wall. "An' you. You were the one tha' injured m' boi."

The man stuttered out an apology, only for the long blade to get stabbed into his shoulder. Gavin leaned close and slowly twisted it, digging the metal deeper. "'M gonna let you live, but you have a new job to do. You are to tell everyone tha' you see one simple thing."

"Wh-What is it?" The man shook and Gavin yanked out the machete, throwing the man to the ground. The dying sun was behind him, casting his face in shadow, only his gold eyes visible as they ripped through the Ganger's psychi. 

_"No one messes with what belongs to the Golden Boy."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can really see how much time has passed since I write longer fucking paragraphs.


End file.
